


Forte Rubato

by makeitmine



Category: Glee
Genre: Future Fic, M/M, kblreversebang
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-11-06
Updated: 2013-11-06
Packaged: 2017-12-31 17:32:17
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,332
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1034420
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/makeitmine/pseuds/makeitmine
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A dog, a cat, and a piano bar. What more could Kurt and Blaine want in their lives?</p>
            </blockquote>





	Forte Rubato

**Author's Note:**

> Written for kblreversebang’s hiatus mini-challenge. Eternal thanks go to Ashleigh for the quick beta.
> 
> The song used in the story is, in my mind, an even more stripped down version of _Somewhere Only We Know_ than was on the show (think the Rolling Stone(?) performance Darren did after the episode aired, but without the lyric fuckup). Also, Mozart and Belle are [these](http://us.cdn001.fansshare.com/photos/beagle/beagle-pup-and-tortoiseshell-kitten-white-background-606563060.jpg) adorable babies.

Kurt adjusts the angle of each item on the breakfast tray, picks it up, and makes his way towards the bedroom and his sleeping husband. He nudges the slightly ajar door open and quietly tiptoes in, his hip shutting it behind him. As he pads over to Blaine’s side he accidentally steps on one of the pet toys left at the foot of the bed.

The noise wakes Blaine and he cracks his eyes open. “Kurt?” he mumbles in his haze of consciousness.

“Good morning, honey,” Kurt says. He sets the tray on the nightstand and pecks Blaine’s cheek. “I was going to let you sleep a little longer but I guess Belle wasn’t up for that.”

“That sounds about right.” Blaine yawns and stretches, exposing his bare chest peppered with dark hair. He sits up and turns toward the tray full of pancakes, maple syrup left over from their weekend in the Catskills the previous October, bacon, and sliced oranges and strawberries. “What, nothing to drink?” he inquires as he takes the napkin from under the silverware.

“I have water going for some tea. I know how jittery you’d get with coffee today so I figured less caffeine to get you going would be good.”

Blaine hums in agreement, his focus on drizzling the sweet syrup over Kurt’s infamous buttermilk pancakes. “True. I can’t believe today is finally here.”

Kurt reaches down and steals the crispiest bacon slice. “You’re not going to try to back out now, are you?” he asks.

“Nope,” Blaine replies with a chuckle. “All the permits are filed and the licenses have been paid for. Even if I get cold feet between now and 8, the doors are still opening.”

“I can’t believe your dream is finally coming true,” Kurt says. He thinks back to eleven years prior, when they were just two boys who discussed their future way more than any teenagers in a relationship should have, and Blaine brought up wanting to open a piano bar. When he received a sizable inheritance after his grandmother’s passing shortly before their fifth wedding anniversary he began looking into the potential. Quinn, having recently finished her MBA and now residing in Manhattan, eagerly jumped into the plans to assist Blaine on the book side of the equation and scouted out prime locations. Three years of planning, purchasing, redecorating, and hiring had finally led to the grand opening that evening.

“I know, right?”

Blaine bites the end of an orange slice and begins sucking the juice out quite provocatively. Kurt can feel his cock reacting to the sight and is nearly palming it through his pajama bottoms when the shrill whistle of the teakettle interrupts. “I’ll be back,” he says as he all but jogs out of the bedroom and through the corridor back towards the kitchen.

As Kurt pours the water into two cups he hears whining coming from the direction of Mozart’s bed. “Hold on, boy, I’ll take you out in a little bit.” It does nothing to stop Mozart, who lowers his head and stares at Kurt dejectedly. “Fifteen minutes, okay? Once Daddy and I are finished with breakfast,” Kurt reiterates. Mozart answers by standing and stretching his limbs before scampering off. Kurt plucks two bags of breakfast tea out of the cabinet to place in the cups, adds a packet of sweetener to one of them to signify which is his, and takes the teacups back to the bedroom.

He nearly drops the cups when he witnesses what is happening. “Blaine Devon Hummel-Anderson, what do you think you’re doing?”

Blaine looks up from the bed. “Mozart was hungry,” he says with a shy, guilty grin. “I couldn’t not give him something to eat.”

Their three-year-old beagle is perched on Kurt’s side of the bed, chomping away at a slice of bacon and completely oblivious to the situation. Kurt rolls his eyes as he gives Blaine one of the cups. “You know the rules; the pets eat after Mozart’s morning walk.”

“Thank you.” Blaine takes the tea and lifts the bag out a few times to make sure it’s brewed to his liking. After the first sip he continues. “It’s a special day, Kurt. That doesn’t mean our babies shouldn’t celebrate as well.”

“The way you treat these two, I fear for what will happen when we actually have children,” Kurt snarks. He checks his tea and removes the soaked bag, placing it on the now-empty pancake plate. The rich flavor hits Kurt’s tongue the moment he takes a drink and he savors the hot liquid for a moment before swallowing. When he finishes the cup and notes that Blaine hasn’t touched the food on the tray in several minutes, he sets the cup on it and picks it up. “You can go ahead and shower while I take Mozart out. I’ll get in when you’re finished.”

Blaine questions Kurt’s suggestion. “Are you sure? I know how you get if I’m in too long and run into the time you need for your routine.”

“Don’t worry about it,” Kurt replies. When Blaine and Quinn nailed down the date of the opening he immediately requested the day off, promising Isabelle she would be at the top of the guest list if she approved it. His plans for today mainly revolve around making sure Blaine doesn’t freak out too much.

“You’re the best.” Blaine tosses the covers off his body and gets out of bed. He kisses Kurt on the cheek as he pads across to the bathroom. “Thanks for breakfast, love,” he adds before shutting the door behind him.

Kurt returns the tray to the kitchen so he can clean up after walking Mozart. As he walks in he notices a puff of white, black, and tan dozing away on the counter. “No, missy, this is not your bed,” he says, shooing Belle away. Ever since they adopted the kitten three months ago, no surface in the apartment is safe from becoming her territory. He shuffles into the foyer to grab the old McKinley hoodie he wears during Mozart’s early walks when he’s not in the mood to dress beforehand. After slipping his durable moccasins on and grabbing the roll of doggie waste bags, Kurt takes Mozart down to the ground floor and outside so he can relieve himself. When everything is said and done and cleaned up they leave the chilly, gray world for the warmth of the apartment. Belle nearly pounces on Mozart the moment he’s off the leash, and they run back and forth through the apartment while Kurt pulls out the dog and kitten food bags.

He sets the bowls down to let Belle and Mozart eat, then he begins washing the dishes. Right as he sets the final plate in the dishwasher he hears the bathroom door click open and turns towards the hallway. Blaine still takes his breath away after all these years, but it’s these moments when he’s completely undone that do so the most; freshly shaven, bouncing curls devoid of product, wearing a simple tee and jeans and bare feet. Kurt meets him at the entry to the kitchen and kisses him. “Good morning,” he says.

“A very good morning,” Blaine replies, his smile bright and wide. “What are the plans for today?”

“Really, just vegging out. I don’t want you getting cold feet about the opening, so I lined up the cheesiest rom-coms I could find on Netflix to keep your mind off anything that can go wrong.”

“I see. Shall we get started?”

Kurt shrugs. “If you want to you can. I still need to shower and moisturize, but I’ll make it quick and save most of it for this evening.”

“Gotcha.” Blaine squeezes Kurt’s bicep as he walks by into the living room while Kurt heads off to freshen up. By the time he’s cleaned and dressed, Blaine is halfway through _Elizabethtown_. He is curled up on the couch while Mozart and Belle lay in front of the end table. When Kurt takes a seat next to Blaine, Belle decides to hop up and occupy his lap. He idly scratches at a spot behind her left ear until a light snore is heard escaping her mouth. The four of them barely move the remainder of the morning.

* * *

The most important thing Kurt has learned in his decade in the Big Apple has been how to make the perfect entrance. Not too early so that you’re stuck with the elderly who’ll be long gone before the party really gets going. Not too late that you draw everyone’s attention onto your arrival. So when he finally hits the bar an hour after the doors open he knows he’s good. Blaine said earlier that he would be on stage some time after 10, so arriving now gives Kurt enough time to mingle with their friends beforehand.

He stops a few doors down and watches as several groups enter through the wrought iron doors. It seems the word of mouth on a new spot is bringing out an eclectic bunch as he watches people in jeans and button-downs enter followed by those more suited for an evening out. He glances at the bouquet of red and yellow roses, because some things never change, and smiles as proudly as the supportive husband should as he continues down the street.

When Kurt enters the establishment he’s immediately thrown off balance by Quinn’s ecstatic hug. “Kurt! Can you believe this is finally here?” she squeals.

“I might be able to if I can breathe properly.” Quinn backs off, and Kurt kisses her hello. “Congratulations, sweetie. I’m so proud and thankful that you stepped up to help out.”

Quinn beams; she’s no longer the lost girl he saw in many incarnations throughout high school. The demons of teen pregnancy and paralysis are long gone and have left behind a strong, intelligent, beautiful woman behind. She’s in a stunning, shimmering black cocktail dress with her hair, a darker shade of blonde than it used to be, in loose waves cascading past her shoulders. “Thank you,” she replies. “I couldn’t think of a better person to work with, honestly.”

The gentleman standing to her left clears his throat as he stares at Kurt. “Is he on the guest list tonight, Ms. Fabray, or is he paying?”

“Oh, Steve, there’s no need. This is Blaine’s husband, Kurt. Kurt, our doorman, Steve.” Kurt greets Steve before Quinn pulls him into the lounge area. “We set VIP aside for everyone tonight. I know Sam and Tina are up there, along with some of Blaine’s coworkers. Don’t ask about Santana; I think she found out the head bartender is single so she’s been hitting on her for the past half hour.”

They climb the staircase near the coat check towards the balcony where Kurt can finally take in the decor Blaine and Quinn chose. Red and gold is the predominant theme, with cherry wood tables topped by a single tealight candle and booths with velvet curtains tied back. Enclosed cabinets full of every liquor imaginable line the walls - a sign that Blaine really does want this to be a place to relax and have fun as much as one to enjoy the entertainment. A spotlight shines the bar’s logo onto the closed-off stage.

“There you are!” he hears Sam shout from the back table. Kurt strolls over to greet everyone already there. “You excited for this?” Sam asks as he sits down.

Kurt hums in confirmation. “As long as I’ve been hearing about this, I’m mostly glad he can stop talking about this dream and move on to the next.”

Caroline, the petite fourth grade teacher that has become Blaine’s confidant at the Brooklyn elementary school he works at, is seated next to him. “And what’s that?” she inquires before taking a sip of her daiquiri.

“It’s...still to be determined.” As much as Kurt hates lying, he prefers to keep secret the still blank adoption papers that sit in a lock box in their apartment. Nobody, least of all his father or Rachel, knows of their existence. But as things for Blaine start to calm down from the opening and before he reaches the back-to-school hype of August, they know the ball will start rolling slowly in just a matter of time.

“As long as we get him back in one piece,” Amira, a first grade teacher, says. “The kids would hate to have anyone other than Mr. Anderson show them how fun music can be.”

The group continues to grow as the performance draws closer. Quinn’s boyfriend, Eric, arrives not long after and Santana finally saunters upstairs, a little past tipsy, giggling at the way Jaime the bartender flirted and gave her free drinks. While everyone chats away, Kurt digs his phone out of his blazer and opens up a text. It’s a small thing he and Blaine have always done before one of them goes on stage, other than during _Grease_ when Kurt was in Lima and could hardly bear to face Blaine in the aftermath of his infidelity.

_Break a leg, love. You’re going to show this crowd why this is the best spot in town._

The reply buzzes through minutes later. _Thank you, honey. Just remember that as much as they fall in love with me tonight, I only have eyes for the most stunning man in the room. <3_

Kurt smirks and pockets the device. If Blaine is being his super-romantic-yet-slightly-egotistical self within the space of a text message, he knows the butterflies are nowhere to be found.

He turns to the stage as he hears the patrons on the floor level hush. The curtain has pulled back to reveal a brightly polished piano, the spotlight now trained just in front of it. Moments later Blaine steps on stage and promptly takes Kurt’s breath away. He’s dressed in a dark navy dinner jacket and charcoal slacks with a red bow tie. The throwback to their first meeting and months of friendship that became more can’t be missed.

“Good evening, everyone,” he says, “and welcome to the grand opening of _Forte Rubato_. I am simply overjoyed to see such a turnout, and on behalf of my business partner, we would like to thank you for coming out tonight.”

Kurt hears the chair to his right scrape the floor as it is pulled out. He turns and smiles at Rachel as she sits. “Perfect timing,” he whispers.

Rachel chuckles and kisses his cheek. “You’re lucky I made it. I had to bolt backstage as soon as the curtain call ended to change and make it out to fight with the audience for a cab. I offered a driver triple the fare to get here on time.”

“Breaking the law, huh?” Kurt tisks. “Shame on you, Rachel Berry. Do you know how many girls idolize you and then you do something like that?”

“Hey now, there’s only two men I would become slightly lenient of policies for.”

Before he can reply the gentle sound of piano notes floats through the air. Blaine has taken a seat in front of the piano and is running his fingers up and down the ivory keys to loosen them up. “A lot of you may be wondering about the bar’s name,” he says, still tinkering out a few higher chords. “Forte, as those of you with a basic knowledge of either music terminology or Italian have learned, means loud. Rubato is a style where the musician puts an emphasis on the emotion of the piece rather than the sound. It’s something I’ve always been drawn to in my own performances, and it will be a focus here. You’ll meet two of our regular performers later - Jacquelyn and Tomas - but for now I want to put on a show of my own.

“This first song is one I’ve had a deep connection to for well over a decade.” As Blaine taps out the first few notes, deliberately slower than usual, Kurt’s breath hitches and he’s taken back to the first time he heard Blaine sing this. “I’m dedicating this tonight to the person I first sang this to, back when we were two hopeless teenagers falling in love. Kurt, this is for you.”

Blaine glances up at the balcony and smiles at Kurt briefly before he schools himself into performance mode. His smooth voice effortlessly fills the room as he sings the first words. _”I walked across an empty land, I knew the pathway like the back of my hand…”_

Kurt is enthralled by the entire set. Blaine in showman mode is still a sight to behold, and he has the crowd eating out of the palm of his hand. He mixes pop with standards with Broadway for the half hour he’s on stage in a way that can appease to everyone without a complaint. The only other song that goes back to their relationship is the final one, and as Blaine mimics the opening notes to All You Need Is Love, Kurt can’t help but squeal. Rachel and Tina each grab a hand, presumably to keep him from acting like a crazed groupie. As the performance draws to a close the crowd erupts into a standing ovation, reluctant to let Blaine leave the stage.

It’s nearly an hour later when Blaine finally makes it upstairs to greet everyone. Tina practically leaps out of her chair and tackles him to the floor. “You were amazing up there, Blainey! You know, if you ever want to hire just one more person I’m open to audition.”

Blaine chuckles and peels her off of him. “I’ll think about that, sweetie,” he says, gently patting her shoulder. “Thank you, though, Tina. I’m glad you enjoyed it.”

“She’s right, though,” Santana chimed in. She hasn’t consumed any more booze since she left Jaime behind so she’s fairly sober. “I tend to forget that under the bow ties, gel, and hearteyes directed at Hummel there’s an actual human being that knows how to sing a bit.”

“Santana Lopez, what would I ever do without your compliments disguised as insults?” As she rolls her eyes, he pulls her into a tight hug. Blaine makes his way through the tables, accepting everyone’s congratulations and well-wishes until he reaches Kurt, who scoops the bouquet up from its resting space on the table. “Well, this doesn’t seem familiar at all,” Blaine says with a grin.

“Why mess with a proven winner?” Kurt kisses Blaine before handing him the flowers. “You were outstanding, honey. This is what you were meant to do.”

“So no more fights over spending all the money opening this place?”

Kurt shakes his head. “None at all. I’m serious, Blaine. You’ve always been a born performer. I know teaching became your passion, but tonight reminded me of the boy I met at Dalton, the one who created a performance on a whim.”

“Kurt, I...you don’t know how much this means,” Blaine chokes out. His deep-seated fear of failure is what ultimately drove him to follow education rather than performance as a major. He always takes to the piano at parties, of course, but Kurt knows this is where Blaine belongs; on a stage, commanding the audience to give him their attention simply through his voice and hands. He’s sure once Forte Rubato is safely in the black night after night that Blaine will leave teaching behind and put all his energy into the bar.

Kurt leans into Blaine’s ear. “I think I do,” he whispers.

They sit and watch as Jacquelyn lights up the room with some Beyonce and Fun. while their friends slowly disperse to other locations or to retire for the night. By the time Tomas takes the stage for his second set only Sam, Tina, and Santana remain; Rachel left with a promise to come back Sunday when she didn’t have a matinee to rest up for the following day, and Quinn, who agreed to stay behind to close up, moved downstairs to the office to count the money that came in that night. 

“I’m hungry,” Sam eventually whines. “Can we get out of here and hit up a diner or something?”

Santana nods. “Trouty’s right, I need to gets my grub on if I’m going to meet Jaime after last call.” When Blaine gives her a look she laughs. “Relax, it’s only coffee. I’m getting older, I’m not going to hook up before going on a date with her.”

“I should have known better than to hire her,” Blaine mumbles.

While Kurt would really like to sit with everyone for another hour or two, he feels the time should be used for more private activities between him and his husband to celebrate a successful evening. He fakes a yawn and turns towards Blaine. “Actually, I think we should probably head home. It’s been a long day and sleep sounds really good right now.”

“Are you sure?” Blaine nearly begins pouting to guilt Kurt into going to eat before Kurt pinches him high up his leg, making him backtrack his thought. “I mean, if you’re tired, okay. We can head out.” They say their goodbyes to their friends and head downstairs and out the door.

They luck out and grab an available cab within thirty seconds. Kurt barely restrains himself from pouncing on Blaine like two drunk newlyweds during the ride home, and after throwing a wad of money into the driver’s hand, they quickly find themselves making out in the deserted elevator of their apartment building. When they reach their floor they’re practically pawing at each other’s tie or belt to get rid of them. Blaine finally stops to retrieve his keys from his pocket to unlock their door. A series of woofs greets them as they step in and turn the light on.

“Mozart, quiet,” Kurt calls out, dejected that their dog is cockblocking them. He removes the undone tie from his collar and sighs. “I guess I should take him out, huh?”

Blaine nuzzles his head into Kurt’s neck and kisses it gently. “Probably.”

Mozart finally bounds into the living room to greet them with a few hearty licks before Kurt is able to hook the leash onto his collar. He takes him out and around the block twice before Mozart decides to relieve himself and then back upstairs. By the time Kurt pads into the bedroom, Blaine has changed into a pair of lounge pants and is snuggling in bed with Belle. “You are hopeless when it comes to her,” Kurt sighs as he begins to undress.

“I can’t help it, her charm has gotten to me,” Blaine replies, rubbing his nose up to her tiny pink one.

Kurt chuckles and shakes his head. Once he’s down to his briefs he crosses the hallway to the bathroom to brush his teeth and begin his nighttime skin routine. Blaine comes in and wraps his arms around Kurt’s waist as he’s patting the water off his freshly-washed face. “Do you think we’re ready now?” Blaine asks abruptly.

Kurt pauses. “Ready for what?”

“Ready to fill out those papers.”

He drops the towel to the floor. “Blaine…”

“Kurt, hold on a second.” Blaine scoots around and steps into the space between Kurt and the sink, still holding him close. “I’ve been thinking about what’s next now that the opening is out of the way, and all I can come up with is welcoming someone new into our family.”

“I’m guessing this person would be tiny and lack the ability to walk or talk, then?” Kurt asks.

“Unless you want to go for a toddler or older. But it’s time, isn’t it?”

His eyes start prickling with tears as he nods. “Yeah, it is. Do...do you want to start on the papers now?”

Blaine laughs and quickly shakes his head. “We can wait until Monday when you get home from work and the bar’s closed. It’s almost too late for anything now.”

“I’ll remind you of that when we’re dealing with 2 AM diaper changes.” Kurt pauses and looks into Blaine’s golden eyes, still as bright and youthful as the day they met nearly thirteen years ago despite the few lines that have started at the corners. “You’re going to be an _amazing_ father, you know.”

Blaine finally breaks down and fully embraces Kurt. “I love you, Kurt,” he says through the tears. “And you will be, too, with everything your dad has taught you.”

“But you’ll get to teach him or her everything music-related from day one, and make sure they understand the importance of an impromptu Katy Perry number in case they meet the love of their life on a staircase.”

“As long as they don’t go with it two years later to express the biggest mistake of their life,” Blaine chuckles. “We’re going to have a baby.”

Kurt nods, another tear escaping down his cheek. “We are.” He kisses Blaine and slips out of his hold. “Give me three minutes to moisturize and I’ll come to bed, alright?”

Blaine nods before he steps out and leaves Kurt to finish his routine. Once he makes sure his skin is properly nourished, he shuffles out of the bathroom, turning off the light in there and in the bedroom before climbing into bed. He finally notices Belle sleeping on his pillow as he lays down. “Belle, you’re going to be a big sister,” he whispers. His voice is still loud enough to wake her, and she purrs and moves to the edge of the bed to jump down.

“At least she has some time to get used to the fact,” Blaine jokes.

“True,” Kurt replies, hoping the wait for approval and subsequently finding a child won’t be as lengthy as they expect. He wraps an arm around Blaine and settles into his side. “Good night, Daddy.”

Blaine snakes his arm underneath Kurt and holds him close, kissing him one final time. “Good night, Papa.”


End file.
